Your Poetry Dot Com - Fervid Soul

Primary endeavours to betroth ones mind and heart fail spectacularly,
A Painstaking lack of direction makes for scattered pieces of destruction,
Atmosphere is void of moment as moment is void of meaning,
And life bears vacancy for grieving,
While I question that we’re still breathing.

Catacombs of un-dead feeling writhe around in a maddening repression,
The heart of life would exhale a sigh of release if here was such thing as free,
A short multitude of hours tacked together inconsecutively,
They are walked along begrudgingly thus bringing me to here,
Callous misdemeanour and angst burns brightly on.

Solitude is a clinical magnitude of necessity,
The aide and the weapon of a dwindling soul,
The terror and the anguish,
Such a complicated canvas,
With a pen that’s burnt out.

Can you draw.

This poem is Copyright ยฉ creactivity